Read about the Berkshire restorer who saw a heap of old iron in the bushes and realised it used to be a 1926 bullnose Super Sports, and the seven year old boy in Norfolk, Virginia, who read a book called The Red Car and knew that, one day, he would have to have a TC, and the Dutch boy who saw an MGB on his way to school and knew something similar.
There’s the French boy aged nine whose nanan gave him a model kit to assemble, and the USAF fighter pilot who saw his first MG in Britain during the war and was in love for ever.
A Canadian took 32 years to restore his TA, while a Swiss professor installed space-ship electronics in his TD.
An aeronautical engineer was left some money and bought a 1929 18/80 Tourer that he thought had been restored.
An Australian 17-year old happened across a second-hand MGB, was done for speeding and lived happily ever after.
A Swedish boy walked out one Sunday morning into the middle of an MG rally.
Each of these, and many more, has a story.
All the stories are different, but the story tellers have something in common.
They would all rather love – and sometimes despair of – a wonderful vehicle with faults in its character, than have no feelings about one that has no character at all.
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